Monday, November 28, 2011

Freud, Freud, Freud.

I wonder about Ruth's mental condition. If anything, I would have to say she seems to be Freud's ideal woman. Her actions seem senseless to me, but since I have only read so far into the story, I suppose that is understandable. From what I do know, her mind seems to be in a perpetually childlike zone. She is, as she aptly puts it, "her daddy's daughter" (Morrison 67). I know that her mother died and she takes after her with an alarming likeness. She demands kisses from her father, and lets him be her doctor even after her marriage. Can we interpret this as an intense love from daughter to father, or are we too bothered by the intimacy between the two?

Taking up Freud's side, I would like to argue that Ruth's actions are just a manifestation of her subconscious - the Electra Complex. With her mother dead, the Freudian shade of Ruth would have had no competition for her father's affection, and thus could allow her affections for her father to flow freely. And her freedom of expression clashed inevitably with her husband's expectations. Macon Dead Sr., who was obviously too chicken (at least on a Freudian scale) to admit to any sexual desire for his mother, would have interpreted Ruth's paternal love as the symptom of a grave madness. 

Yet because I am not a devote follower of Freud, I can sympathize with Macon's revulsion. Ruth is strange; her actions do hint at some ulterior motive, if not a bipolar personality. She seems to possess sexual instincts towards her young son, which is perhaps an even more frightening prospect than incestuous relations with her father. For it implies that she is spreading her fondness of incest, and ruining Milkman's possibility of a normal future.

As an end note, I feel like there is immense potential in conducting a Freudian analysis of Ruth Foster Dead. 

1 comment:

Mitchell said...

I'm not sure it's an either-or, and I'm not sure a Freudian would say so, either. Maybe what we see in Ruth *is* an excess of intense and meaningful love for her father--as she quite movingly puts it, the *only* person who "cares whether, or how she lives." But she doesn't know how to properly express these intense feelings (she is undoubtedly sheltered, and lives a very "small" life--if we're tripping on Milkman still living in the house he grew up in, think of Ruth, who's been in this house *her whole life*!), so they manifest themselves in Electra-tainted ways.

As for her "sexual instincts" towards Milkman, it's ambiguous and open to interpretation, but I see something closer to maternal affection run amok, and a desperate loneliness and need for connection to another person. A baby gives back this love unconditionally, but the child cannot remain a baby forever. Plenty of mothers mourn this passing of their youngest child, because it means giving up this special and intimate connection. Like with her father, she takes it too far, but I see this as sad more than sinister.